bonds we live by
by gingerline
Summary: When Asuna walks in, she's unkillable, because every time she walks toward the boss, rapier at her side... part of her wants it to kill her. – S1 ep. 14 AU; Kirito dies in the duel, and Heathcliff honors his last request
1. Chapter 1

**disclaimer: SAO is not mine, and neither is the awesome cover art. all credit goes to the creators of these masterpieces. thank you!**

 **warnings: major character death, suicidal thoughts/attempts, survivor's guilt, fallout of co-dependence**

 **A/N: If anyone needs context... this begins a little after the scene in ep. 14 (just prior to the 75th boss fight), when Kirito asks Asuna to stay behind and she says she'll kill herself.**

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 _"All of your scars will disappear_

 _I will become your sword and shield_

 _This crossing fields_

 _The path that we select._

 _The promise we made will last for all our days._

 _If it's our bonds we live by,_

 _I will put my faith in you."_

 _\- Crossing Fields (Amalee)_

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 **November 7, 2024**

 **— 12:21 AST —**

Asuna doesn't know how long she sits there, on the cold tile of the guild's headquarters. She knows it must have been a while – the clock chimes every half-hour, and she's heard at least several – but every click of the minute-hand feels like moments slipping between her fingers, too fast.

She's never liked the cold, impersonal feel of this place; the Granzam building. Asuna feels like an intruder every time she steps here – which is as little as she's required – even if it is her own. She has been with the Knights of the Blood Oath for what feels like forever, but as she sits there, gazing at the blood-red banner that came with the new building, Asuna realizes she has no idea what they've become.

Her skin crawls; the cold of the room seeping through to her bones.

She doesn't want to be here – in these steel-framed halls – even if she has to join her guild for the boss raid soon enough, anyway. But as Asuna shifts, feeling the warmth beside her… she finds she doesn't really want to be anywhere else, either.

Kirito sits slumped against her, his warmth seeping through the coolness of the metal wall against their backs.

It's him that asked her to sit there as they waited, on the floor of her office. Asuna had insisted they leave, to get away from here and find something to keep her mind busy – waiting had never been easy for Asuna – but Kirito had asked her to stay. And one look into his dark eyes and she'd just... given in.

There was something incredibly fragile in him, then, and after screaming herself hoarse and the cold truth bruised beneath their skin—

 _You'd know what I'd do if you never came back?_

—Asuna's throat felt too tight to do anything but nod and curl down beside him. Kirito let her lean her head against his shoulder, his breaths soft above her temple.

And so they waited.

"Hey, Asuna?"

His words break the silence; Asuna glances up at him. "Yes?"

Kirito's look is thoughtful.

"Do you... you know, ever wonder what it would be like, if none of this happened?"

He shifts above her, making Asuna pull back slightly, looking him in the eyes. "The Knights of the Blood Oath, you mean?"

"Well, no. But that too, I guess." Kirito looks away after a moment; his eyes cast down at the floor's sheets of steel. "I meant... everything. All _this_ …"

When he pulls away from her, disentangling them, Asuna doesn't expect him to lift Dark Repulser from his side – let alone strike the floor, purple light engulfing the blade. She flinches at the hiss of steel against steel, followed by the system's discordant _beep_ of warning.

If he'd hit anything else – even as casually as he did – Asuna knew Kirito's STR-infused strike would have shattered it. But out of all the things you can destroy in SAO – lives; families; sanity – buildings aren't one of them.

The «immortal surface» icon fades after a few seconds. Asuna stares at the tile left behind it, aware of how it's unnaturally smooth; how she can't see her reflection in it, no matter how polished it becomes. It's all so normal to her now, but it reminds her of how… not normal, this is.

Kirito's expression is unreadable, as he lets his weapon sit beside them, glistening.

 _Do you ever wonder what it would be like, if none of this happened?_

"Sometimes, I do," she admits, after a moment.

She thinks of her desk at home – the papers she hated and grades she dreaded and the lectures… Her mother's lectures she can't believes she misses but she _does_. She thinks of her brother and how she yelled at him for being so busy he left her life; for never calling, for never getting takoyaki, like they used to – like they never might again.

"But there's no point to that." She thinks of all the times she let herself think of that – remembers the senseless tears, the shaking hands and locking herself away for days – and Asuna clenches a fist. "It _did_ happen, and now we have to deal with it. Wishing things that could have been won't solve anything."

She doesn't mean for it to come out so – chastising, but she can't help herself. Her fists are drawn against her lap.

"Is that what you tell your guild members?" Kirito says, unaffected. He seems almost amused. _You're one of those too now, thank you very much_ \- but then Asuna remembers whose fault that is, and just shakes her head.

"It doesn't solve anything, Kirito," Asuna repeats firmly, trying to pin him with her gaze. "Everyone in the guild goes through a cycle of that... wondering, and I can't let them. We can't dwell on things we can't change."

"I get that," he says, and Asuna flushes a little because... she knows he does. But you just can't look back. "And it's true. Thinking about the awful things - it drives you to the brink."

The swordsman pauses, before his voice turns oddly soft. "But good things happened here, too, Asuna. And if none of this happened, they wouldn't have either."

Kirito is staring at the far wall, Asuna is suddenly conscious of how close they are; of the laughs they've shared, the irritating smirk and shove-fests – the way she's teased him and shared bits of her life, her feelings… things she's so comfortable doing with him now, in a way she hasn't ever in real life.

"Kirito..." she says. The young man's look is serious. "What's your point?"

It seems like he's thinking hard about something that's always been with him, trying to communicate it.

"I don't mean that it's better this way. It's not," Kirito continues, as if he's trying to convince her of something; the words are pressing, though still soft. "But like you said: once it's happened, we can't go back and change it. So maybe we should take the time to remember the good that's come of it, too. Not just the bad."

The tension of the morning still thrums in her bones, but something about the way he says it makes Asuna's shoulders relax, ever so slightly. Because while she lost everything to Sword Art Online, while their future's uncertain and threatening to crumble... It's true. If this game hadn't happened, then... she wouldn't have met him.

She lets out a quiet sigh.

Kirito blinks. "What?"

"The 'good things that happened in SAO'?" Asuna recounts, squeezing his fingers. It's bittersweet, but in spite of herself, her lips quirk. "If you're trying to be romantic..."

"I-I'm not," the boy mutters, averting his gaze; a slight tint to his cheeks. "I just wanted to... Ugh..."

Asuna shushes him with a finger to his lips. Her smile turns wry. "If you were, it's working."

He sighs, in that irritating _I-can't-believe-you-say-these-things_ way, which only makes Asuna raise a brow.

"I could have been talking about the virtual experience," Kirito says. _Of course._ "Or the S-class food."

"You could have, yes," Asuna says. "But then I'd have to smack you."

He rolls his eyes. Asuna thinks about actually smacking him, but in a moment of boldness, decides on slinking closer, hand brushing against his chest.

That always got a better reaction, anyway.

As always, Kirito flushes at her closeness. This is still new to them; still uncharted, still thrilling, sending little sparks across Asuna's skin that feel more real than anything she's felt in reality.

She leans with her hands on his shoulders and, for a moment, forgets that they're on the floor of KotBO headquarters, the threat of the 75th floor looming over their heads.

The kiss is brief; just a touch, but she knows her heart's beating faster. A lot of sensations in SAO feel stilted; incomplete, but the dizziness – the heat – even in something so quick... this has to be real. Asuna wonders if that's the system designers or just her heart, and the affection that seems to pour from her chest like physical warmth.

"Asuna, really?" Kirito asks, a little breathless in spite of himself. His eyes flicker around the cool metal surrounding them. "Here?"

In her _office_? With the rest of Asuna's subordinates outside?

Asuna shifts until she's more on top of him, and though he's giving her that half-admonishing look, Asuna knows he doesn't mind so much as he pretends to. As if displays of affection would kill him.

"My door is closed, Kirito."

Kirito's obviously not convinced. There are listening and spying skills, she knows, but she'd had her office made of the highest-grade materials with that in mind. It's the only part about this place she even appreciates.

Not that Kirito knows. He shakes his head. "You know that doesn't mean much. Not with such elite players in your guild…"

"So?"

She'd never, of course – not where Daizen could see; not even a kiss – but watching her partner shift is adorable. Asuna never pegged him as shy, but he _did_ spend the last two years avoiding people. That should have been a hint.

Kirito's sigh is exasperated. " _So_ —"

"It's just a kiss," she says teasingly; innocently.

The way she's straddling him, arms braced against the wall on either side of his head, suggests otherwise. But they haven't crossed that line yet, and Asuna'd be damned if she has their first time on some steel floor in a place she hates.

It's just before they risk their lives, the voice in the back of her mind reminds her – but Asuna doesn't want it to be desperate, either.

"Right..."

"Look, they won't know," she explains. Then, almost playfully, "And even if they do, they're not stupid enough to say anything."

That wouldn't truly comfort Asuna, but it's true, at least. Though the Commander had the final say in all important matters, like membership and boss raids, quite a few other aspects of the guild are under Asuna's control. Including mission assignments. And Col dividends…

"Sounds like you run a pretty tight ship," is his dry reply, before Kirito blinks beneath her. "Though I guess they probably already think that's what's going on, seeing as you locked the door... and we've been in this office for hours."

He seems to just realize this now. But it was Kirito's idea to wait here, so she doesn't know why he's the one making a stink about it.

"You really are an idiot…" Asuna can't help but make a face at the reminder – because her partner is probably right, dammit. "Just shut up and kiss me, okay?"

Thanks to her STR, holding herself up over him doesn't actually strain her, but the longer she's doing it, Kirito just staring at her – pondering what daring things her colleagues are imagining them doing – the more and more awkward she begins to feel.

Maybe he knew this all along, as he shrugs, obliging. Asuna swears she feels a touch of a smile against her lips.

It's always like this; this back-and-forth, like poking, meaningless exchanges and teasing remarks and soft looks that mean everything – have always meant everything, even when they couldn't recognize it. It pours life into her.

They kiss again, and Asuna doesn't remember who initiated but when they both break for air they're breathing hard. It's something Asuna's never really understood, about VR – this _need_ to breath – but it's the first time she's irritated by it. It must be psychological.

Their foreheads are resting against each other when the bell chimes; a sharp, metallic **_ring_** that rips through her ears. It breaks their faces apart with a start, and Asuna nearly slips off him, catching herself against his right shoulder.

It's embarrassing how easy it is to forget; to have everything else fade the background.

"Half an hour left," Kirito echoes, eyes staring past her to the time on the wall. Asuna tenses.

"Yes," she says softly, throat suddenly tight, still holding herself over him. She lets head fall, just brushing the side of his head. Her voice grows quiet. "I... we should go."

Kirito looks pensive, then – "You really won't change your mind?"

 _Instead of going to the boss fight, could you please stay here?_

Asuna shakes her head, and from the look on his face, Kirito knows her answer hasn't changed.

"I love you," is all she can say. "You know that, right?"

It's the response Kirito's expecting but he just wraps his arms around Asuna, her auburn locks falling across his cheeks as she hovers above him. His "I know," is soft, and hesitant.

He doesn't say it back – eyes misty – but he supports her gently under her arms, without asking, their noses touching. It's a small gesture, quietly considerate, but it represents so much of what he does for her that she feels her eyes grow misty herself.

It's easy to forget sometimes, because she's had it for so long, and so unconditionally – in his subtle, quiet way… But Asuna realizes now how much she needs that. His support. How much she's needed it for a long, long time – since he carried her that one day out of that Labyrinth; when he walked out of the first floor boss room, victorious, and her hope for the future fell across his shoulders like the dark black of his coat.

She still doesn't know how he did it; how he does any of it. She doesn't know if she ever will. But she breathes him in, sees the way he looks at her – like he cares so much he'll break – and she knows she needs him. He's her pillar.

Her breath is shaky against his neck. "We should join everyone in the hall soon."

"Yeah." His chest expands in a sigh beneath her, words ghosting over her cheekbones. "We should."

There's no answer, but when Kirito's fingers brush tentatively over her scalp, brushing her hair aside – initiating – Asuna's lips meet his. It's firmer this time; more desperate.

They should join the raid members soon, they know. _But not yet._

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 **A/N: Hello! c: Um, just want to say here that while Asuna is going to be in a grieving, angsty place for most of this story, this doesn't have an _awful_ ending. I don't like throwing my characters in the dark and leaving them there. (Those stories just depress me.) But _is_ an exploration of a dark outcome of the last episode of SAO P1, so it's not pretty.**

 **(Note: this is planned to be around 25-30k. Let's see if I can keep it that way. cx)**


	2. Chapter 2

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Fourteen dead.

The number echoes around Asuna's mind, pressing like a weight across her shoulders as she shifts, staring out at the remains of her guild. The boss drop is normally met with cheers and celebration – even among the stoic members – but now there's nothing but silence. Dead silence.

She scans the players shakily, taking count, and it's been so long since they've lost anyone she misses several times. Kirito is a steady, somber presence at her back as she does so; as Asuna sees the faces missing and realizes she knows the dead by name, whispering them under her breath.

Fourteen dead.

"And we've still got twenty-five floors to go," Klein says, collapsed in the center among the raid members. The man seems for once at a loss.

"Twenty-five more floors…" Agil repeats. His voice seems airy, shocked; the seriousness of his mein cracking. A few of the others – including Tomo, Asuna's steady unique-skill user – echo him, panting and shaky on the stone floor. "How the hell do we even go to make it that far?"

Asuna's rapier feels shaky in her palm, because Tomo's eyes flicker to her – one of their leaders – and Asuna doesn't know, either. Any reassuring words she possesses are stuck in her throat, along with the rest of her courage.

And they still have so many floors to go.

Kirito says nothing, but the tension in him is obvious. It's almost like the early days, when Kirito was always slightly on edge; when his Beater status made him furious enemies and SAO's ins and outs were still new and unknown. And part of it's true. It unnerves her.

"What's wrong?" She glances at him, feeling weary, but can't seem to catch Kirito eyes. He's transfixed by the players crowded near the stairway.

They're murmuring and arguing, in harried voices – all except one, of course. The Commander is deathly calm in the midst of the discord, impassive as always. Unreadable.

It's always amazed and sent a tremor of envy through Asuna, that mastery. How unfazed he is, by everything that comes their way; how he takes every move in stride. Asuna has never seen him react with anything but his calm, quiet control.

That is – until that moment when Kirito shifts behind her—

"Kirito, what are you—?"

Elucidator is an arc of black steel, meeting the Commander's platinum shield with a deafening **_crash_**.

«Immortal Object».

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As quickly as it comes, the surprise in her Commander's eyes – in _Kayaba's_ eyes – is gone. The look melts away into something akin to respect – a gaze that Asuna has never seen on him, either. In these two years, she hasn't—

But then, she thinks, as her limbs suddenly _lock_ in place – paralyzed — that Asuna never really knew him at all.

But there's no time to think of it – to analyze the crushing weight of betrayal in her chest – because it's not just that her commander is Kayaba, the overlord of this sick, horrific game. It's that her commander is the overlord of this this game… and he wants to fight Kirito.

The man's eyes are dancing with something Asuna cannot place, as he stares at her love. Anticipation, maybe. A twisted sort of excitement. He shifts the heavy blade that Asuna has seen pierced through so many enemies; the shield that Asuna has seen no player surpass.

It's only now that she realizes why.

"Don't do it, Kirito. I don't like it," she says, and when the words come out steady, authoritative, it's only because of years of practice. "We should fall back."

Her heart is thumping; mind racing. But Kirito won't listen, and deep down Asuna doesn't really know why she expects him to. She knows what he's thinking – knows the faces running through his mind; the breathes of the players shocked silent in the room now.

"I'm sorry, Asuna," he says, and she knows – remembering how desperate he had been, not a few hours ago – that he means it. "But I have to."

Asuna knows he does, and it's because she understands that the protests bubbling in her chest die on her lips. His determination is fierce and unyielding – the side of Kirito beneath the nonchalance and arrogance, and it's only once you see it you realize it's far deeper than Asuna's own.

Kirito is apologizing, now – to Agil and Klein, who see his determination for what it truly is. But they see Kayaba for what he is too, and they don't want him to – but it's clear that Kirito's already decided what to do. And Asuna wishes she could, but she can't change that.

"You better not die," she just says, glaring at him through her blurry gaze. "You better not. You hear me?"

"No, I'm gonna win." He steadies himself. "I promise you, I'm gonna win."

Kayaba's eyes are unreadable as he watches Kirito's exchanges, deathly patient, and Asuna feels a chill run down her spine, chained to the floor by her heavy limbs. But Kirito's voice is so certain – so determined – that Asuna can't help but cave, shoulders falling.

"Okay." She takes a deep breath. "I believe in you."

She's never seen anyone even close to killing the Commander – and with good reason – but Kirito knows this game better than anyone. He has mastered it to the level that few ever will. And even though it's crazy – even though all of Kirito's plans are crazy – he's never let her down before.

He knows he can do this. And so Asuna finds herself going along with him, as she's always done…

That is, until Kirito turns to Heathcliff once more – "If it's okay, I have a final request to make."

A pause. "What is it?"

"I'm not planning on going down easy," he says. It's clear this is something he's been thinking of for some time. "So, if I die today, I want your word that you'll fix it so Asuna doesn't kill herself."

Kirito faces away from her but his words are clear to her ears – and Asuna's heart seizes.

Kayaba considers it briefly – as if not expecting such a request – before, much to Asuna's horror, he nods in assent. "As you wish."

"No!"

They are bowing when the shock fades enough for words to process through her.

"Kirito! No! You – you can't do that!" Her breath seems forever short in her lungs – hurt and betrayal battling with fear for the burning overtaking her chest. "No! That's not fair, you – you _can't_ —!"

She only sees his back as she struggles against the floor, her «paralysis» - this world – as if she can somehow get to him she can stop this from ever happening. _No._

"Remember that we can't change it, Asuna. Whatever happens..." he says, head turning slightly back, his words unusually soft. "We can't, okay?"

It feels like he wants to say something else – like the words are stuck between his heart and his throat – but Asuna doesn't want to hear them. She doesn't. He can't say them now, like it's the last chance he'll ever have. She refuses to, even though inside…

"You can't do this, Kirito," she says, words hoarse, because she realizes now that Kirito's not certain of anything. He doesn't know he can beat Kayaba – doesn't have some strategy up his sleeve – but there are too many lives at stake not to try, and that's why he…

She chokes out a whisper. "Please, don't do this."

She can't do anything else.

"I'm sorry, Asuna, but I can't run away if it means ending this," he says again as he straightens. "I promise you, some way or another, I'm gonna end this world."

The duel mechanics are activating around them and it's too late for anything else, but she knows even if it weren't, Kirito would still turn around then – still draw his dual blades as Kayaba's «immortality» deactivates with a flash of light.

"You better not die on me," she whispers, her voice too faint for him to hear. "You can't."

He shoots forward, lightning-fast – faster than Asuna herself – and Kayaba engages him, armor reflective and striking. They exchange deafening blows and even though her heart feels like glass, like it's cracking, she can't help but remember everything he's fighting for.

She thinks of her mother and her lectures, and her brother, whom Asuna knows she irritates to death but who love her… and miss her. She thinks of everyone in this room – and the hundreds she's seen shatter into thousands of fragments.

 _You need to do this…_

They move so fast it's difficult to see – trading and dodging blows too quickly to process – as Kirito drives into this with everything he is, and it's only the thought of how she believes in him that her heart lets him.

 _…but you can't die. You can't._

He isn't certain of himself, but Asuna is – she has to be. And how can she not be?

After all, Kirito brought them here. Every time she's wanted to give up, to give in, he had been there, proving her wrong – proving them all wrong – time and again.

When Asuna snapped at him that he shouldn't waste his time; they were all going to die anyway – and he just gave her cream, reassurance falling from him without words. When Asuna's «Wind Fleuret» had shattered, those years ago, and the he promised her a new one; following through in dramatic Kirito fashion.

When Asuna tried to help a new player, and lost her to the 20th floor's dungeon; and Kirito just sat beside her, clicking a small tree to life, in memory. When she _left_ Kirito to join the Knights on the 25th floor, heart blazing and desperate, and Kirito squeezed her wrist and just told her to _fight like hell._

When the «Gleam Eyes» loomed over them, Asuna's heart racing a million miles in her chest, and Kirito pulled dual blades from his back.

Especially the way he wields them now – «Elucidator» and «Dark Repulser» – with that same steel in his eyes; that steely, hard purpose to his steps.

She yells and screams at him as his heels slide against the stone but in her heart – as their blades clash in a hiss of spark and steel – Asuna believes in him. She has to.

Ever since that day in the Labyrinth those years ago, she's believed in nothing else.

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 **A/N: Totally butchered the dialogue of that scene, I know. But it works.**


	3. Chapter 3

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It seems to last forever – the way they dance around each other, trading blows in a blur of dark cloth and brilliant white armor.

It could have been hours; it could have been minutes, that they fight. All she remembers later is watching, heart trapped in her throat, as their battle slows – as Asuna sees Kayaba's billowing thrust and Kirito thrown violently backwards, heels scraping the stone.

It doesn't even cross her mind that Kirito has taken much damage, at first. She assumes it's just the shock of the blow that keeps him from immediately darting forward – maybe a momentary «stun». She waits there, with bated breath, for Kirito to catch his breath and return to the fray, «Dark Repulser» engulfed in purple glow.

But he doesn't.

One moment he's braced, shakily with his sword in one hand and in the next, it's as if all strength leaves his body. His black blades clatter against the stone as Kirito stumbles – first back and then, with a shallow breath, to his knees. Lifeless.

That's when Asuna sees the red – stark and blood-red against the cursor of his health as it fades until there's nothing left.

It's as if the breath is sucked from her lungs.

"K-Kirito?"

There's no response but a flicker of his eyes, towards Asuna. His face seems blank, as if in shock – as if in pain. Something is tearing through her chest but all Asuna can think is to get to him – all she can see is his eyes, dark and shimmery—

"Kirito!" She screams, jerking forward, elbows chafing against the stone, but her limbs betray her – everything betrays her. It's not possible. It can't be. He isn't – "Kirito! Answer me! **_Kirito_**!"

It's only after several moments it seems her voice registers within him. He blinks.

"Asuna…"

Kirito's form seems to shimmer, as Asuna has seen dozens of times – but she squashes the impending horror rising like bile from her chest, because Kirito – Kirito can't be… He isn't _allowed_ to—

"Kirito!" she gasps. Her hands draw against her chest shakily, skin flushed, trying to gasp out her words. "It's – it's okay, Kirito. Y-You're—" she gulps, "You're gonna be okay—"

The world is a blur – Kirito some dark mass, the rest a whirl of color and shouts – until it all closes in on a voice. Kirito's voice — the voice that's teased her and challenged her; the voice that's reassured her and given her comfort, even when it doesn't carry the right words, or even the right meaning.

"I'm sorry, Asuna," is all she hears. It's raspy and quiet, almost a whisper.

And then Kirito shatters into thousands of crystal fragments.

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The room falls to dead silence.

No one moves; not even a inch, as the fragments scatter and fade away, like little, glittering flecks of light. Not even when Asuna lies there, whispering pleas to the empty stone, heart hollow in her chest…

It seems like an eternity before anyone makes a sound.

It's only fitting that it's Kayaba himself.

The silver-haired man steps slowly, approaching the place where he shattered Kirito – where he shattered fourteen others – into nothing. The hall is still silent as the man sighs, the yellow of his health steadily filling to green; the only trace that Kirito ever battled him at all.

"Hmm…" he muses softly – to himself or to the audience, no one can be sure – as he stares into the smooth, empty space that Kirito left behind. "I guess he was not the hero I imagined after all."

To the world, his tone sounds disappointed – as if some fancy of his has fallen through. But to Asuna, his words pierce through the haze of grief around her, callous and simple, like a screeching knife against glass. It's as if something shatters inside of Asuna. Something hot and scalding floods through her veins and even before she realizes what's happening, her rapier is a cold, certain presence beside her–

«Lambent Light» flies forward violently, with «overkill force» as it slices into Kayaba through the natural weakness in armor at the crease of his hip. The purple light of «Radiant Force» follows the exposed hit – all Asuna's STR firing behind it – and yet...

The jabbing sword skill has Asuna recoiling back, feet away… enough to see the small chip in Kayaba's health, quickly refilling itself.

 _It's not enough._

"What is—"

The man's eyes are widened – caught off guard – and it spurs her forward. Asuna's second strike is lightning-fast, with more SPD than any other in this game, but her first hit is her last.

The block from his shield is a blow that hits her solidly – perhaps even before she realizes it – and while Asuna has been hit before, it's never felt so crushing. The sheer force of it sends her flying and crashing in agony against the stone, a whimper falling from her lips.

"Ah, ah…"

As if it weren't enough, just as Asuna is stumbling to her knees, it's like something harsh and cold clamps across her wrist – across the arc of her back and the bend of her legs – and she collapses, stunned.

«Paralyzed».

Kayaba's hand is raised as he finishes clicking his menu. Although he looks down at Asuna, he doesn't seem angry – not even at all bothered.

"Now, that was a surprise. I'm sure I never programmed a way for players to neutralize their own paralysis."

Instead, he almost looks dimly impressed by the girl; still thrashing, still struggling.

"You – you murderer..."

Her avatar aches – a large, gaping wound in her health, now red – but all Asuna feels is the rage, still racing like fire beneath her skin.

"Let me up, you _bastard!_ _Let me go!"_

She fights against the heaviness caging her limbs, to tear the _superiority_ from his face – violently – but it's no use. She can't move – not even to _stand,_ and it's…

Asuna would have thought she'd be used to being powerless. She's been stuck in this madman's game for nearly two-and-a-half years of her life, subject to his whims – to the arbitrary laws of his world. And yet she isn't used to it at all.

She thinks of how Kirito shattered, his life scattering to the wind as she watched, not even in control of her own body... and realizes that it's the most powerless moment of her life.

It's as if something in her breaks.

"Just fight me! Damn you, if you want to kill us all for your _amusement_ , then _fight me!_ "

The Commander she followed faithfully for so many years only stares, interest stirring behind his gray eyes, as Asuna's screams dissolve into whispers, then to sobs.

"Oh, I will," is all Kayaba says. "I promise you; you will have the opportunity to avenge him. But not here. No, I will face you on the 100th floor."

It's clear that he is the only one truly sees this as a game – as Asuna and Kirito as some _figments_ of his fantasy. And maybe they are. Maybe there's no other point to them, living here - suffering here, choking on their own sobs.

For the first time in a long time, Asuna can't remember why she's fighting.

"You… you bastard!" comes a shout in Klein's raspy voice. "You stay away from her!"

Kayaba walks slowly past the «unique-skill» user, without a word.

Another one of her Knights stirs. It's as if the realization that Kayaba isn't going to strike them down on the spot gives them courage. "Y-yeah – get out of here! You monster—"

"Why did you do it? Why—?"

"We trusted you!"

The crowd suddenly erupts into shouts – angry ones, desperate ones – and all from their place on the floor. But Kayaba hardly pays them any mind. This aspect of him – this calm, unperturbed state– is real, at least… as is the respect he commands with just his presence.

Kayaba only raises his hand, and the hall quiets.

"Do settle down, please. I am speaking to my sub-leader," he says, then looks pointedly to Asuna. "Or will it be commander, now? It seems like such a shame, to let the guild I built all this time fall apart without a leader."

There's a rustle and grunt in the crowd.

"Klein—"

Agil's warning is quickly cut off.

"Like fuck it is! We're all just going to kill you right here!" he screams, hoarse. "You _murdered_ Kirito, and if you think we're just going to let you just—"

Kayaba clicks his menu again and just like that – the entire hall is silent. Klein seems to move his mouth – many people do, even collapsed against the ground – but no sound comes forth; their audio silenced.

"That's better."

The entire room feels the cold grip of power in his words – now with a whole new meaning – and it encases Asuna.

Her silent sobs turn to labored breaths.

 _You murdered Kirito—_

She doesn't realize she's gasping his name until Kayaba speaks again.

"Kirito is gone," Kayaba says. It isn't said harshly, or to make a point; it's simply a fact. "From this world and any other. But life still moves on."

It's then the man stops before her. Asuna's eyes barely follow him, the anger bleeding from her by the hole in her chest; like someone had ripped it out.

"You… you killed him." Asuna means to shout it – to scream it to him – but it comes out as nothing more than a whisper; her throat so tight she feels like she's suffocating.

"Unfortunately," he agrees. "It gave me no pleasure, I assure you. I had high hopes for him as the hero of this little saga. But it was not meant to be, it seems."

There is that wistfulness once more. Kayaba gathers his disappointment quickly, however.

"Never-mind that. I do hope you'll consider taking my place, Asuna. I always knew you had potential." A crystal takes form in his palm as he nods to her, expectation in his eyes. "Regardless, I expect to see you before me at the Ruby Palace, when that time comes."

The man's eyes flit over the crowd, defeated once more – unable to come to their beloved sub-leader's defense; unable to rage or curse or vent or beg. It's crushing, like the stone that weighs on Asuna. It's as if they want to stop existing, but before Asuna can do that, either–

"Ah, I almost forgot."

Kayaba pauses, then re-opens his menu; skimming briefly through the shimmering gold. He types in a code with quick touches.

"For all my disappointment, I am a man of my word."

Suddenly Asuna feels something stir within her; a shift in her code – a «stat change» – and it's as if a coldness settles over her shoulders, like a heavy chain about her neck.

The man who ruined their lives smiles, enigmatic, as he bids them goodbye. "Farewell, Asuna. I leave the Knights of the Blood Oath in your hands."

And then he's enveloped in white light – the light of a crystal – and he's gone.

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	4. Chapter 4

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Agony consumes her.

Even when the «paralysis» in her wanes and fades, she stays frozen in that spot; hands where the shards of Kirito's life had been, as if grasping for them… as if she can't believe he's gone. Part of her doesn't.

They risked their lives every day, it's true, but she'd never truly considered it before… not for a very long time. Even when he spent his days solo and reckless; even when the reality seemed so close to coming true. It didn't… He just couldn't die. He wasn't supposed to—

He couldn't leave her.

That part of her can't believe it. It's the part that does – that knows what this all means – that has the tears spilling from her eyes, her heart an aching mess in her chest.

"Asuna…"

The players around her seem to still – talking in grave and harried voices that seem far away to Asuna. Distant.

"Hey, Asuna, are you…?"

There's a touch against her shoulder. It's a warm, firm one but Asuna only feels the way Kirito's arms wrapped around her, not an hour ago, and she flinches away. She chokes a sob.

"Let her be," Agil says, his low voice throaty. Pained.

She feels the touch again.

"Klein—"

The red-haired man steps away at the warning tone in the larger man's voice, face etched in grief. It's a reluctant step and so Agil grabs him, pulling Kirito's friend from the girl.

No one else disturbs her.

The sight of one of SAO's steady leaders collapsed against the cold stone of the floor, sobbing in high, keening sobs – like her heart is breaking – is burned into their minds. Even the guild members who have known her for years, seen her in grief and pain, have never seen the Lightning Flash so… broken.

No one has seen the young woman – so fierce, so enduring; like she would fight longer than any of them would think possible – so utterly defeated. Like she has finally just… given up.

The players move. There are pleads, some condolences, but eventually, the Knights leave her alone to grieve.

And Asuna lies there, as if the entire world has fallen from beneath her.

She stays there for a long time, even after the energy for tears runs dry. It could be hours; to her, it could be days. It's uncertain how long she's there, but it's for a time longer than she could have if her body were more than strings of numbers and data; that Klein is certain of… because she doesn't move.

For a time, Klein even thinks she might be dead. Her form lies deathly still for a long time; longer than he'd thought possible. He knows she's not, but eventually, it has the red-haired man shoving past Agil to take the girl and just _shake_ her. To get her to move.

The young man talks to her, his voice rising in worry, then in frustration – but the words are far from Asuna, and don't reach her.

He shakes his shoulders roughly and pulls at her arms, trying to get her to stand – to _respond_ – but even when he lets go she only falls, lifeless.

In the end, it's Agil who takes her away; lifting his friend's girl limp in his arms… and leaving her heart behind on the cold, stone floor.

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The events effect Aincrad far more deeply than anyone has ever seen. It's far more than the loss of elite players; a reminder of the grim reality of SAO's dangers. It is the betrayal of their most trusted leader – a betrayal so deep and cutting that it takes a piece of them with it, never to return.

The Lightning Flash becomes silent as stone – unresponsive in her grief on the harsh terrain of floor 75. Some say she lies there for hours; others days, before she disappears. And after that... Some believe she's left this world and every other – though no one knows for certain and no one can ask, when the only one whose word they trust becomes suddenly out of reach.

When Argo leaves, it's quiet and abrupt. She's «paralyzed» on the 75th boss room floor, near the entrance – her whiskers glistening – and then she slips away in the chaos… gone.

No one sees the Rat for weeks. She leaves no notes, no reasons – only silence; an absence so unheard of it has the leader of the Divine Dragon Alliance resigning from his duties after only a day, at the gates of the Town of Beginnings.

Though Argo returns eventually, the man – renown for his outspokenness on the inevitability of victory – is never heard from again.

The news of it spreads fast even without the Rat's guidance, like wildfire; burning the hope of the game in its wake.

For the first time since the very first floor, no one is crawling through the dungeons. No one is on the grassy, moonlit slopes of the 76th floor's fields and rivers, hunting all day for items and quests. No one is meeting in large battle halls but to argue and scream into the night – full of guilds' ruined dishes and desertions, and the sounds of a community tearing itself to pieces.

Agil knows what this looks like.

If any of the alcohol or shimmery powders were real – if any had effects beyond impairing «coordination» points or inducing «fatigue» – than every tavern and shop would be crammed to its limit. Had Agil's bar been virtual, he'd be rich enough to buy Aincraid over. But such sins don't exist in their overlord's perfect fantasy world.

So instead, Agil's shop is like a graveyard. The street beyond the normally bustling district eerily quiet and overcast, even in midday. It's a graveyard like Agil's never seen – not in years.

And the mourners are even more difficult to reach.

"Asuna?" Agil calls, voice gently, knocking the wooden door with a broad fist. "Hey, Asuna. You hear me in there?"

He knows she does – one can always hear outside in. But there's nothing. No response; just like the last several times he's tried, these last two days.

"I got some soup here," he says, but even he knows it's weak. The NPC's standard gruel isn't exactly enticing, though it's really just a reason to be here – to check on her. Agil coughs into his hand. "I know it's not much, but I thought you might want some still. If you're hungry."

A spying skill isn't something Agil's ever wanted for himself – especially not to hear the goings-on of a lady behind a closed door – but for a moment, the large man wishes it. If only to know if the slip of a girl he laid on the cushion of his rented upstairs isn't getting foolish thoughts.

One could only have so many days of solitude before it really hits them. And Kirito's girl hasn't left since Agil brought her there himself – hadn't had visitors since the blacksmith, who knocked and demanded entrance until her voice went hoarse and she left, in tears.

Agil could only stand on the sidelines, helpless to even soothe Lisbeth – hurting perhaps more personally than he.

The man hasn't had to deal with crying women in a long time. Or women, period. But that's an ache so deep he can't think about. Not now.

Her grief seems to seep through the doors, infecting him. Agil steadies himself, heart aching. Sometimes he feels as if his wife is long gone, so far from him it's like he's lost her. But not even Nezumi is farther than Kirito is now.

"I know I don't know you very well, Asuna," he says. "I know that. But Kirito was a friend; a real one. And… I just want you to know that any friend of Kirito's is a friend of mine."

He almost sees her beyond the door; curled up on the stiff bed, or maybe the lumpy armchair. He wonders if the tears down her cheeks are any drier; if she's any better than how heartbroken she seemed, lying on the floor of the 75th boss room like she meant to die there.

"Man, I'm not cut out for this…" he murmurs, low enough for it not to pass through the wood as he leans against the doorframe.

He almost towers over the door and fills up most of the narrow, dusty hallway above his shop. He used to have to shove Kirito out of here, some days.

It almost doesn't seem real, that the boy is gone.

He was so young. Late teens at the oldest.

Sometimes it's easy to forget that a lot of them here are just kids. They'd never finished school, never worked or married or did any of the crazy things they all did, at some time or another. Agil's heart aches.

Kirito didn't deserve to die, let alone this young. And this girl – just barely old enough to fall in love; to realize what it means – doesn't deserve to grieve him.

Agil just sighs deeply. "I miss him, too."

The man wants to help – tries to think of the right words – but in the end, he knows there aren't any. Agil's not the most eloquent man, but when someone rips your heart out and shatters it, he knows there aren't words in the world that'll make it better.

Agil slumps to the side, burying his face in his hands. He misses his wife's gentle, steady presence; the way she always seemed to know how far to push.

"I've known Kirito since he got here. It's not my place, but… I just wanted you to know, in case it never got through…" he says, letting the words come; raw honesty taking over in his timbered voice. "He loved you, Asuna. What he did was damn brave, but I know it wasn't just that he couldn't have done it without you. He did it for you."

He doesn't say an apology, or that if she needs anything, he's there – even if Agil has vowed to take care of his friend's girl to the end. She doesn't want that. Her grief doesn't want that; not from a man she doesn't know.

And so he leaves her there, putting the soup down in an item-box; it's heat counters slowly depleting.

But if his listening skill had been even just a little higher, he would have heard the way she cried from behind the door… Asuna's apologies falling from her lips.

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End file.
